A/N: Please note the content rating change! This story has (FINALLY) been upgraded to an M rating, and this chapter will be earning it! Pretty much right away, so if this bothers you, turn back now. Otherwise, you have been warned. :) Thanks to Rachel Olsen-Williams and MrsKroy for betaing and being all around great friends to me.

And a very special thanks to YOU for reading, reviewing, favoriting, or following - whatever it is you do!

"People tend to complicate their own lives, as if living

weren't already complicated enough."

- Carlos Ruiz Zafón

xXxXxXxXx Present Day xXxXxXxXx

"Hmmmm," I hummed as I dragged my nose across her soft, alabaster skin, "you smell like sunlight."

She was here.

Like the fabled phoenix, she had come back from supposedly final death – to me.

"Do I?"

She giggled back coquettishly while unsuccessfully seeking to suppress the shudder cascading through her petite frame, which terminated as she wiggled her ass against my crotch.

I silently nodded against the crook of her neck, reveling as my light scruff grazed the indents there – my marks – inhaling deeply before darting my tongue out to see if she tasted just as heavenly.

The tiniest 'ohhh' escaped her lips as I lapped at her sweet, delicate flesh – the erotic sound sparking a fire that traveled from my ears straight down to my groin. I palmed my erection, adjusting the bulge as it strained against the zipper of my dark wash jeans, seeking a small respite of comfort. I longed to bury myself deep inside her wet heat, to thrust us both into a state of orgasmic bliss unequaled by any experience prior.

"Was this your diabolical plan all along, Sheriff Northman?"

She teased lightly – the melodic jingle in her tone testing all measures of restraint within me – threatening to weaken my resolve not to tear her clothes off and bend her over the arm of my velvet-lined throne.

"You wound me."

I retorted nonchalantly, feigning insult – earning me a half-hearted slap on one of my thighs, which encased her own since her luscious ass was seated firmly across my lap.

"I would never plot to divest a woman of her virtue. This…"

I breathed out, my cool cheek grazing against hers momentarily as my lips drifted downwards to pepper her jawline with fangy kisses before traveling down her décolletage to the swell of her breasts.

"…was merely…"

Kiss. Nip.

"…a stroke…"

Nip. Kiss.

"…of good fortune…"

Kiss. Nip.

Pointedly flipping her blonde hair over both shoulders, she clenched her legs together, seeking some much needed friction as my hands left their position on the arms of my chair to lazily toy with the hem of her shirt – my fingers slipping underneath every so often to brush against her goose-pimpled flesh. She writhed against me with each accidental touch as tiny pleasure-filled mewls escaped seductively from her slightly-parted supple lips. The scent of her arousal permeated the space like a heady perfume, filling my nostrils with a rich coating that snaked into the recesses of my sex-addled mind to burn delightfully into my memory.

How had I ever left her to her own devices and ignored her for days on end?

She was like a drug I was never going to get enough of.

Pupils blown black with desire, she turned back to shoot me a bewitching smile – her pink tongue sweeping out flirtatiously, begging to be bitten – undoubtedly aware of the effect she had on my libido as she undulated wantonly against my rock-hard length. While pressing my finger pads against her hips with bruising force, a guttural groan crawled up my throat and flew from my mouth involuntarily, spurring her on further – evidently setting her inhibitions ablaze. Suddenly, she twisted around to straddle my waist and rub the apex of her clothed sex against my pant-sheathed member at an almost feverish pace.

I almost lost it right then and there.

Fuck me, even fully dressed, she was a tantalizing little minx!

Lashes fluttering with unbridled lust, still massaging her crotch across my own, she gingerly threaded her fingers through mine, ungluing them from her sides to press our joined hands over her full, heaving breasts. When her hands slipped away, I found myself mesmerized – by their weight in my palms, by the poking peaks of her pert nipples, even by the rapid rise and fall of her cotton-covered chest. In and out. In and out, over and over at a steady cadence that was practically hypnotizing. She was drawing me in like a moth to a flame, pinning and chaining my gaze to the enrapturing exhibition.

Did she know I was about ready to burst?

The wicked glint mirrored in her darkened blue eyes said yes.

She began to tremble below me as her orgasm built, her rolling hips becoming less fluid and more herky-jerky. Her nails sank into the skin of my shoulders – eliciting a primal howl from me – as she hung on for dear life, trying to coax my bliss from me before submitting to her own. When I did not tumble quickly enough for her liking, she leaned forward, whispering dirty nothings as her teeth nibbled sensuously on the hollow of my ear.

"Ooooh! Bite me, Eric. Bite… ERIC!"

She throatily screamed my name – her dulcet tones strangely replaced with gravel – as I complied and passion devoured her whole, causing her to twitch slightly while fireworks exploded in her clouded eyes.

Unable to hold out any longer, I followed mere seconds behind her.

"ADDY!"

Her name tore from my throat like a husky prayer as my hips bucked and I spurted my seed against the fabric of my pants, my vision blurring as wave after wave of euphoria swept over me.

"Addy?!" The same high-pitched, grating voice shrieked at me from what could not have been more than inches away, "Who the FUCK is Addy?!"

Opening my pressed closed eyes, I was met by wild brown ones attached to a tanned naked woman, positioned over my now softening cock, with blood dribbling from two puncture marks on her neck.

Not. Addy.

WHAT the fuck was that?!

Disgusted with myself – for more reasons than one – I pushed the blonde-haired, brown-eyed blood donor off my lap like she was little more than a bug-infested blanket. My expression remained impassive even as her ass smacked against the cold floor with an echoing slap. But the pathetic creature did not seem to mind one bit. Displaying not one shred of self-respect, my verbal faux pas obviously blown from her mind, the blood bag instantly began to whine and whimper unabashedly, like a puppy who had been denied a tasty treat.

Had I been capable of puking, I might have.

Gods, what was wrong with me!?

"Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here."

I growled menacingly, hiking my black dress pants up over my hips, zippering the fly at vampiric speed before disappearing from the Area's private feeding room into the back office – not sparing one glance back at the mistake I had left in my wake.

Once the door slammed behind me, I stifled the urge to slump to the floor, to succumb to the alien surge of emotions coursing through out my form. This wasn't me! I was Sheriff Eric fucking Northman for fuck's sake! Pushing down the foreign and fungal feelings, I crossed the small space and sank into my office chair to shuffle through the paperwork on my desk.

I decided to forget the whole thing and let my work consume me instead.

After all, it was the vampire thing to do.

Having comfortably dressed for a casual night-in, I slowly descended the wooden staircase, relishing the silence veritably echoing off the painted walls, jumping over the final warped step to avoid its grating squeak. It was one of the few architectural flaws in my Shreveport abode, and I really needed to get it fixed. Someday. Landing with a quiet thud, I found my eyes drawn upwards towards the second floor, to the door that had secured Addy's room when she had lived here, with me and Pam. My upside-down world had twirled right-side up the second I had discovered Addy was still alive, but the pangs of her absence had surprisingly continued to plague me.

Regardless of anything else, she did not live here anymore, and likely she never would again.

I still could not pinpoint why it bothered me as much as it did.

But I chalked it up to the same ennui that had wrapped itself around me like a snake long before I had brought Pam to my side, the tedium that had become almost distracting – had become my life. Pam had been a wonderful child, everything I had hoped for – full of fire and cheek, an invigorating challenge and devoted friend – but she was not my bonded mate.

Over the years, my soul had practically ached from the deprivation.

But I had learned to ignore its pain, swallow it whole.

I cast my gaze away from that door specifically, and stomped towards the kitchen, itching for a live feed but willing to settle for a bag of semi-fresh blood. My hospital connection kept me supplied regularly, although I had always preferred a willing donor prior to Addy's appearance in my life. Her squeamishness regarding her vampire diet had affected my own adversely, even if it had at times brought a small smile to my otherwise placid countenance.

Because at times, I had secretly yearned to be the source of her sustenance instead.

She is not yours, Northman. Calm the fuck down.

As I pulled the plasma-filled container from the fridge, I spied an object on the kitchen counter in the corner tucked behind several errant papers that I had overlooked during the past several weeks – Addy's flip phone. Thalia must have lifted it from her before the whole unpleasantness, or Addy had left it after Pam attacked her. Either way, it was here, which was not where I wanted it to be. As I sank my fangs through the bag's plastic barrier, I decided to call Godric to arrange for the phone to find its way back into her possession.

If she had it, I could track her – find her if something were to happen again.

She would be connected to me, even if only by a cellular contract.

Having made my decision, in spite of the fact the sun was still setting – twilight nipping at its heels – I dialed my maker's number, knowing he would most certainly be up – an advantage afforded to him by his two thousand years. The ringtone did not even complete a full cycle before Godric answered – surprise evident in his tone, and also in our maker-child bond.

He rarely blocked his emotions from me.

"Broder, is everything okay?"

Godric expressed worriedly, his concern for my well-being more open and exposed than I would have expected prior, especially since he continued to speak in English.

Ordinarily he switched to Swedish when discussing even semi-private topics.

"Everything is fine," I lied deftly, hoping to side-step the topic entirely, "but I want to return Addy's phone to her. She left it here in Louisiana and it contains contacts I am sure she would like to reach," I paid no heed to the bubbles of anger that rose as I thought about the dog she used to run with, "Should I drop it in the mail to the Area address?"

"No, that would not work," Godric responded negatively, his incredulity knocking me for a loop, "After what happened with King Jameson, we both agreed it would be best if she did not stay at the Area Court. Therefore, until I secure a new residence, she will be living with her cambion demon friend, Ja…"

"WHAT?!"

I boomed in my native tongue, the speaker of my cellular phone aggravatingly too small – much to my chagrin – to capture the resounding echo that followed my angry scream.

"Was my word choice unclear?" Godric responded in perfect English – the continued deviance from our usually translated exchanges not lost on me – without a hint of mockery or sarcasm in his quizzical timbre, genuinely concerned I had misunderstood him, "Should I attempt to rephrase, Broder?"

I tamped down the urge to sigh in frustration, after all it was not my maker's fault my temper had been ignited into burning blue flames – it was hers.

Although I knew inherently no matter which direction I released my ire he would appreciate my surly demeanor with equal measure.

Not in the fucking slightest.

"You are allowing Addy," the traitorous utterance caught in my throat as I struggled to banish the accusation from my tone – incredibly disgusted, and strangely bothered, by what he had divulged, "…who had been missing, presumed dead… to live on her own," though stilted, my markedly impassive voice returned, "with a cambion demon she has identified as her… friend."

I spit out the last word like it was poison on my tongue.

Perhaps in some ways, it was.

"There is much you are not privy to, Eric…"

The edge in his voice carried an unmistakable warning.

One I heeded.

"Where was she?"

I inquired quietly in Swedish, not wanting the answer, as I raked my hand aggressively through my blonde locks and pulled harder at the strands and my scalp than necessary to finger-comb for any potential tangles.

"Dallas," Godric chuckled as if it was an amusing discovery she had been so close, like his fatalistic feelings during her absence had been trifling or minor, instead of fucking scary, "Right under my nose, as Sookie would say."

"Was she… harmed in any way?"

I asked reticently, telling myself my inquiry was necessary to gauge the continued length of Pam's current punishment – her month-long exile to Europe to be retrained by Thalia.

Although it most certainly could have provided it, I told myself that I did not care to know the answer for my own reprieve or peace of mind.

In fact, I had repeated it so many times I believed it, too.

But with each passing second of silence, I doubted my own delusions, and the roaring tide of anger swelled through me again, threatening to sweep me away with it. Perhaps this was why my maker had been so tight-lipped about the whole thing, because Addy had been grievously injured. I tamped down the desire to pace and stomp about my kitchen space. Instead I clenched my fists, curling my fingers too tightly around the phone clutched in my twitching palm. The device groaned its displeasure, veritably begging me to release it or otherwise put it out of its misery. Surely, my maker could feel how the suspense was affecting me.

Why was it so quiet?

Had he muted the fucking line?!

"Hey, Eric," Addy greeted me cheerily, her sweet melodic tone breaking the almost viscous silence – the sound of her voice caging my blood lusting demon instantly. "Ezra says you're kinda worried about me. Didn't you get my letter?"

For a second, I embraced the relief that washed over me like an icy bath before irritation returned.

Godric was keeping her secrets, but sharing mine?!

"Yes, Sookie," I bit out condescendingly – swapping from Swedish back to English – openly pointing my frustrations squarely in her direction, "I got your fucking letter, daisy bullshit and all."

A week ago; seven fucking slow-crawling nights.

Perhaps I was also a little vexed that I had not heard anything from her since then – among other things.

"O-kay, Drew" she enunciated slowly, obviously bothered by my clipped response – acting like the irriterande lilla fairie she was by addressing me by that detestable moniker, "I meant the one I drop… had someone leave on your porch yesterday..." I remained silent, rising from the counter stool to vamp to the front door, where the last note had apparently been left – my eyes flicking left and right – finding nothing before she huffed out exasperatedly, "Well, isn't that why you called?"

Actually I had called under the flimsy guise of coordinating the return of her cellular phone, which Thalia had divested her of prior to burial.

A thin pretense I expected my maker had seen right through.

"Of course, Sookie… I received your other fucking missive."

I lied coolly, if not a bit coldly – perturbed only slightly that I could not fully suppress the sarcasm that threatened to drip from my tone – as I continued to search outside for the alleged message.

"And?" she prodded pointedly, giving me nothing to work with – the content of her afore-written request a veritable mystery to me, "I just need to know eith…"

"I would be happy to."

I interrupted her, speaking tersely through gritted teeth as I stepped back inside – my outside search having ended fruitlessly – with no idea what I was actually agreeing to, although if something was important to Addy, it was likely a priority for Godric, too.

Whatever my maker wanted, I gave to him – no questions asked.

Like you would be doing it for him, my subconscious chided me mercilessly.

"Oh!" Addy replied almost suspiciously, but with embarrassment rife in her tone, "I just expected you'd say no…"

"Well, I am sorry," I mocked callously, sneering although she could not see my scornful expression, "to have disappointed you, Sookie. But I must say, you wound me..."

I barked out, feigning offense as my mind drifted back to a disturbing – albeit, satisfyingly erotic – daydream I had spent countless hours trying to forget.

Perhaps at my core, I was truly a masochistic being.

It would explain so many things.

"Sorry, Eric," she mumbled apologetically, "Sooooo, thanks in advance for making sure Thalia's gonna be at my 18th birthday party in a couple weeks. I really appreciate it, and I'll see you both there!"

Wait... what the fuck?!

Had I, Sheriff of Area Five, just agreed to become a glorified errand boy?

Apparently, yes – yes, I fucking had.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Would you say she's more of a blue or a pink girl?"

I stood next to a table piled full of clothes mulling over this query for longer than I cared to admit.

Because, according to the insipid raven-haired saleswoman, the answer to this question was the key to choosing the perfect birthday gift for Addy.

Godric had insisted forcefully, just short of issuing a maker's command, that I practice this ridiculous human ritual – participate in celebrating the impossible milestone of aging to eighteen not only with my presence, but with presents. So here I was a week before the party, at the Louisiana Boardwalk, doing one of the most detestable things known to man – shopping. Truly, I could not have been more out of my element; this was surely Pam's domain, not mine.

I should have made her do this once she returned with Thalia tomorrow night.

But for Pam this would have been a reward of sorts, and she was still near the top of my shit list – so I was stuck soldiering on instead.

"I do not know whether she is particularly partial to one over the other."

I admitted resignedly, acknowledging out loud – while also to myself – that I had learned very little about what pleased Godric's child, despite her lengthy stay at my house.

What I had unearthed had only explained what, or more aptly who, had caused her pain – Henry.

That piece of shit son of a fucker.

"Well that's o-okay," the saleswoman replied, stuttering slightly, "We can start backwards then. How is this… girl related to you? Let's start there. She's not your… girlfriend? Is... she?"

Everyone within a ten foot radius surely heard the disappointment in her voice.

While my own – that of course she was not – remained completely veiled.

"She is my…" the moniker of "sister" stuck on my tongue like a blood-sucking leech, refusing to expel itself from my mouth – I hated to characterize her as such, "...brother's child."

That was a slightly more palatable way to describe my relationship to Addy.

But even it tasted foul and wrong.

"So, your niece. Oh! Well that's easy then!" the saleswoman enthused brightly, pushing her tits out like a bitch in heat – her previously fake smile suddenly broad and reaching her darkening gray eyes, "And how old is she gonna be? Five? Six?"

As vampire? Less than one.

I thought humorlessly, irritated that Godric was considering her human age at all.

I staunchly believed that letting Addy celebrate her human birth was practically a spit in the face to her new nature. Godric knew, almost as well as I did, how perilous it could be to allow a baby vamp to fervently long for his past. He had seen the results of such negligence firsthand, yet he was marching down a similar path – sure the destination had changed.

As for me, I feared Addy might turn out like Thad.

His overly lax upbringing had been a regrettable mistake I had made several centuries ago – long before I brought Pam to my side.

"She is turning eighteen."

I hissed at the wide-eyed saleswoman – as politely as possible – while thumbing at the soft cotton fabric of a periwinkle sweater folded up on top a cherry-wooded display table.

Like the one she had worn to the carnival.

Why had I imagined this trip might be anything other than a hellish stroll down memory lane?

"Oh wow… your brother must be a lot older than you then."

You have no idea.

My teeth were gritted so tight – having inadvertently churned the simmering rage in my gut into a bubbling boil – I could have chewed through paned glass.

An uneasy, but welcomed silence followed for several minutes, until it was finally breached.

"I'm Trish, by the way..."

The overly attentive saleswoman cooed flirtatiously, fluttering her thick mascaraed eyelashes at me as she trailed the tips of her scorching-red fake-nailed fingers temptingly down her chest to the exposed swell of her tanned breast.

Trish's brazen wantonness barely had me at half-mast, but I really was in desperate need of a fuck and feed – a mind-numbing release.

Plus, she was a certain blue-eyed blonde's antithesis, her veritable polar opposite, in all ways.

Trish slathered her face with what Pam had called pancake makeup, hiding any and all blemishes possibly speckled about her countenance, while she always opted for a natural look, a minimalist approach. Trish's clothes were a little too tight, clinging to her almost like a second skin – putting all her womanly assets undeniably on display – while she definitely opted for comfort above all else. But moreover, Trish was not my maker's newest child, forever beholden and belonging to another being.

While she would always be just outside my reach, and that pretty much clinched it for me.

Perhaps this was exactly what I needed to forget the object of my twisted obsession.

"You know I think I have just what you're looking for," Trish whispered salaciously, licking the seam her plump coral-stained lips as she strutted towards me – her black front-laced heels clicking against the linoleum floor, "In fact, I can help you with uh… all your needs tonight...if you like."

I did not like it, not really – not one bit.

But I desperately wanted to stop yearning for someone that was not destined to be mine.

"As it turns out, there is only one thing here that interests me."

I purred suggestively, gesturing my opened palm around the space to pass over the racks of junk and clothes proliferating it – landing my sweeping hand and pointed gaze directly on Trish.

I decided I would concern myself with Addy's birthday gift later.

For now, my attentions were focused elsewhere.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The engine of my Lexus LX SUV roared loudly as it barreled down I-20 towards Dallas, speeding down the asphaulted path at nearly a ninety mile-per-hour clip – only twenty-five miles above the posted nighttime limit. But in truth, I was not trying to get anywhere fast. The randomly intervaled bump-bump of the performance tires against the sometimes cracked terrain was our only musical companion for the night since my desire to tune into the scratchy frequencies reachable in this dead-zone of space was none whatsoever.

After one and a half hours of relative peace, the silence was broken, shattered like crystal with sharp stalagmite-shaped barbs left in its wake.

Thanks to one thoroughly pissed-off and hot-headed blonde.

"Why the fuck do I have to wear this Econo-mart discount shit, Eric?"

Pam grimaced embarrassingly from the passenger seat next to me, tugging with pinched fingers at the black and white dot-patterned polyester dress like it was steel wool dragging roughly against her skin.

Even though I had given no indication her punishment was complete, Pam's reappearance at my side had given her a brash sort of hope that her European tutelage had drawn to a close.

Foolishly, she had been acting just as bratty as ever – pushing her imagined luck at every pass.

My child had been back a paltry number of days, and yet in that short amount of time, I had realized, much to my chagrin, just how deeply I had spoiled her. While Thalia had reported good progress in Europe – that Pam was developing some semblance of responsibility, losing her propensity to throw tantrums like a human child – it seemed all gained ground was lost the moment she arrived back in Shreveport. She had even openly sneered when I had informed her of Addy's party plans, vocally disapproving of the affair altogether.

Because of that disrespectful remark, she had lost all privileges, and access, to her lavishly opulent designer wardrobe.

Yet, here she was, complaining she had not been allowed to wear anything other than the dime-store garb, as if the reason had not already been made abundantly clear.

"You learn slow, Northman child," Thalia chimed in from the backseat – supersonic senses allowing us to still hear her even over the motor's loud grind – her usually blank, matter-of-fact tone harsh with snarled annoyance, "We go back Europe tomorrow night after Addy party. Thalia still fix you."

"Eric?"

Pam entreated questioningly – shocked and, unless I was mistaken, moderately scared by Thalia's interjection – swinging her head to gape at me with saucer-eyes, visible only in my periphery.

My gaze stayed unflinchingly glued to the front windshield, watching with rapt attention as the blurred foliage and road whipped by.

In the last few centuries, I had never been so disappointed in my progeny, or in myself.

"Pamela," I growled darkly as my hands white-knuckled the black leather steering wheel, "Do not mistake your presence in this vehicle – or in my home – for forgiveness. Your petulant behavior has been allowed to persist for much too long, a mistake I intend to have remedied once and for all."

I glanced up at the rearview mirror just in time to see the usually steely little Greek vampire smirk smugly before her countenance returned inexpressive.

At least one of the vehicle's three occupants seemed to be enjoying herself.

The summer winds hissed around the SUV's smooth curves, proliferating the small space with echoing whooshes that hung like stale smoke clouds in the tension-filled air. Thank the Gods none of us had cause to breathe because the heavy atmosphere was practically suffocating. Uncomfortable, and unwilling to admit it audibly, or inaudibly for that matter – blocking my maker-child bond with Pam – I ignited the button to roll down the driver's side window, letting the hot humid airstream infiltrate our shared space.

Frustrated by the whole situation in general, I wondered off-handedly if this night was destined to be one of the most unpleasant of my entire existence.

Because the way it had shaped up so far, the outlook was not quite so good.

Less than an hour later, having passed by Dallas proper to continue on 1-20 west towards the address Godric had given me – since my own invitation had unnervingly never showed up – I continued down the concrete path, waiting for Thalia to inform me of my next maneuver. A turn revealing itself up ahead, Thalia jabbed her bony finger into my shoulder, wordlessly bidding me to turn right down the dirt road path. Her second poke – and her last if she wanted to keep that finger – apparently indicated a quick left.

I complied with her rudely-expressed requests only out of respect for Godric.

Surely, he would punish me if I lost my cool at Addy's birthday party.

Disturbed by the vehicle's rapid speed, finely-ground dirt kicked up into a cloudy mess in our wake. It swirled in circles, kissing the curves of my black Lexus LX after passing through the tires' deep treads. The buzzing sound brought me a modicum of peace, acting as a veritable white noise, as my anxieties vaulted – the drive almost at its close.

I almost wished I could prolong the already lengthy expedition.

Even though I knew my two passengers assuredly did not feel the same.

I decelerated as we approached a long gravel driveway, the weather-worn numbered mailbox confirming we had reached our final destination. Turning right once more, we slowly crawled towards a peeling wrought-iron gate, supported on both sides by barbed wire and a wooden-staked fence that surrounded the expansive property. I stopped right in front of it, sweeping my gaze left to right.

The next house was visible at almost a mile away.

This place was the epitome of remote.

Thalia virtually sprang from the vehicle, throwing open her door as the SUV squealed to a shaky stop. She promptly blurred to the rope-closed gate, unspooling the braided obstruction to swing it open forcefully – the barrier ending its half-moon arc with a clambering bang. In seconds, she was back inside, treating my vehicle's door with the same amount of care. While I scowled in response to its thundering whack, she grinned wildly – a broad impish smile replacing her normally impassive countenance.

Thalia started to bounce animatedly, up and down in place, as the SUV traversed down the gravelly path towards the red-bricked one-story house – enthusiastically excited to be here.

Fucking bat-shit crazy little warrior vampire.

Parking near the white vinyl-slatted garage door, I gripped the steering wheel tight, willing myself to calm before heading towards the painted white door. With Pam and Thalia triangulated behind me, I rapped not once but twice at the wooden entrance, surprise ringing through me as it opened before I could apply a third knock.

Stringed symphonic music wafted through the air from the classically-designed space, originating presumably from deeper inside the house.

"Oh my gosh… Pam, don't you look… festive."

Addy complimented my child slowly – confusion rife in her tone while merriment danced in her eyes – before sweeping to the left side of the frame to allows the three of us through the jamb.

"There's flutes of warmed blood in the Great Room, which is just down that hallway," she gestured in the direction as she simultaneously closed the front door, clicking the deadbolt lock into place, "Y'all go ahead and get comfortable back there. I'm stuck on door duty for now, since I'm pretty useless in the kitchen."

Obviously amused, Addy laughed softly – a melodic tinkling jingle – producing one of the most captivating sounds I had ever heard in hundreds of years.

Who was this cheerful young woman, and what had she done with my maker's sullen brooding child?

This Addy seemed genuinely… happy, unencumbered – dazzlingly bright.

"Pam. Thalia." I directed confidently, leaving no room for argument – wondering briefly why she was so different, "Let Godric know we have arrived. I will be along shortly."

Having Addy all to myself – at least for a couple of stolen moments – I could not help but apprise her from head-to-toe.

Finally, all of Pam's unbidden prattling about fashion was being put to good use.

Addy's hair was pulled off her neck, twisted tightly into an updo with curled tendrils spilling over a pavé-crystal covered comb. She wore a purple chiffon long-sleeved, midi-dress with a satin belted element about her waist. The see-through fabric of the skirt fell to her knees, but the underdress was much shorter, teasingly exposing her creamy white legs. Those went on for days, terminating with a pair of brown ankle-high gladiator heels.

To reduce her appearance to a single elaborative word, she looked stunning.

But I managed to keep my wits about me all the same.

"It's sooo not me, I know," Addy joked self-deprecatingly, obviously taking my silence to mean something other than discreet appreciation, as she smoothed her hands over the sheened overlay in an agitated fashion, "Plus, it'd prolly look better on some more beautiful, like Pam. But Ezra insisted…"

"You look lovely as ever, Addy."

I truthed sincerely through fanged teeth – wits be fucking damned – interrupting her before she could denigrate or belittle herself any further.

"She does, doesn't she?"

Her cambion demon roommate enthused as he rounded the corner with a shit-eating grin and placed his arm around Addy's shoulder, attaching himself to both my compliment and my maker's child.

Smiling sweetly in response, her bottom lip tucked nervously between her bite, Addy playfully swatted at the buttons on his cloth-covered chest before slipping out of his hold to stand by his side.

Rolling his eyes as I narrowed my own, the demon reached for her hand instead, and wove his fingers through hers – thumbing lightly at her knuckles.

Much to my chagrin, she did not snatch it away.

"So this is… he's my…"

Addy finally uttered a full minute later, breaking the uneasy silence that hung between us like a filthy smoke cloud, oddly struggling to make the simplest of introductions.

What was going on with her?

"My… Eric. This is my… Eric."

Her struggle to identify me as her vampire brother pleased me greatly.

Apparently I was not the only one disturbed by the label.

"And Eric, t-this is…" she faltered again, concerning me more than I cared to admit, "He's…"

"So you're the infamous Eric," the demon grinned conspiratorially as he thrust his free hand between us – an action I scoffed at even as Addy guided it back down, "I'm Jax. Kid's… roommate."

She giggled in response – her eyes bright and mirthful – as though Jackass had just told a funny joke.

Then Jackass leaned over to press his dark lips against the crown of her head, a disgustingly affectionate display that caused my useless stomach to churn wildly – without explanation or measure.

Inwardly, I called complete and utter bullshit – just her fucking roommate my fucking ass.

I had seen more than enough.

As I stormed out of the entryway towards a side-door I was sure led outside, I refused to give the two lovebirds another passing thought.

I needed to extricate myself from this potentially volatile situation immediately.

Before my newly ignited rage got out of hand.

"Hey! What're you doing all the way out here?"

Addy called out worriedly as she strolled towards me bare-footed – her shoes likely toed-off inside – across the dry, crackling lawn of the open-aired backyard.

Of course, she had followed me outside.

Because apparently the universe fucking hated me tonight.

"Do you not have a door you should be watching?"

I barked back, halting her in her tracks as I tucked my phone back into my jeans pocket, having already sent a booty-calling message, as Pam had called it, to Trish.

I truly was a masochistic being.

I was sure of it now.

"Nope… everybody's here. Well, except Alcide, but he's prolly at least thirty minutes out."

Addy explained pragmatically, thumbing at the hem of her purple sleeve as she resumed walking, unconsciously swinging her thin hips in an inadvertently seductive fashion.

Awakened by the display, my cock twitched against the zippered seam of my dress pants, reminding me once again of the abhorrent feelings I had been trying to hold at bay.

That fucking irriterande lilla fairie!

"Go back to your fucking birthday party, Princess…"

I snarled venomously at her, punctuating my biting statement with an endearment that Pam had insisted when delivered sharply was synonymous with brat – scowling in response to her alarmed, wide-eyed expression.

Itching for a fuck – but willing to settle for a fight – I darkly hoped that she would pull out her claws and rip me to shreds.

Naturally, she did not disappoint.

"What the flying fuck, Eric?! What the fuck crawled up your ass?!"

Flying fucks?

Gutter-minded, my still half-mast member jerked against its cloth confines again.

"What. Crawled. Up. My. Ass." I repeated slowly, spitting out each word of the offensive phrase like it was poison on my tongue, "Well, I will tell you WHAT CRAWLED UP MY ASS, Sookie," if looks could kill, I would have been reduced to cinders, "YOU!"

In that moment, all rational sense left me – I was a livewire, enraged.

Thanks the Gods, we were several acres from the house, so there was no one else to bear witness to this embarrassingly emotional display.

Because Addy had not crawled up my ass – as we had both crudely put it – she had gotten under my skin. She had sliced me opened with surgical precision and infected me with these revolting feelings. Then, like a parasitic virus, she had infiltrated my mind, dominated my thoughts – caused me to daydream. Repeatedly. Perhaps this is what fairies really did; they fucked with people's minds.

Begging me to turn her, forcing me to worry about her, fucking feigning final death only to pop back into my life again…

What if it had just been a game to her, merely a joke at my expense?

"Wait… W-what?" Addy sputtered out before bursting into a fit of laughter, practically doubling over from chuckling so hard – case in point – before launching into her own tirade, "THAT'S what you fucking think of me?! How the freakin' hell did you come to that asinine conclusion, Drew?!" her ample bosom heaved as she sucked in angry breaths, trying to calm herself as she unknowingly riled me up further – fucking minxy temptress, "You know what? I'm not doing this shit, not on my birthday."

Then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone as if she had vanished into thin air.

How the fuck did she do that!?

"Please come back to the house," Addy entreated me pleadingly, after she instantly reappeared before me, a few minutes later– really, how the fuck was she doing that?! "I promise I'll stop crawling up your ass – cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye…at least for the night."

She proposed contritely, punctuating her statement by raising her hands up, palms open as if in surrender – her supplicant display temporarily throwing me off balance.

Perhaps I had been rash, unreasonably quick to judge her motives.

But inexplicably I found myself wanting to deny the irriterande lilla fairie all the same.

So without one word of explanation, I launched myself into the sky, even as she yelled for me – Eric, don't go! – ignoring her pleas as I let the summer winds whip against my clothing and drag harshly against my exposed skin. The momentary prickles of pain felt good, cleansing. I flew higher and higher, circling the space above the property, denying my traitorous impulse to look down. To check and see if Addy was still there, waiting for me, delaying her party-goings in hopes I would follow her back inside.

Secretly, I wished she was.

But I was unwilling to confirm the more likely inevitability that she was not.

"ERI-C!"

She cried urgently, letting out a blood-curdling scream, veritably begging me to return to her side – her blatant fear causing the hair on my arms to inexplicably stand on end.

As my head snapped down – my vision becoming red-filtered and hazy – I watched Addy throw off one of two beings who had been practically on top of her – their glinting, silver-tipped teeth visible even from a hundred foot distance.

Although it had been nearly a thousand years since their kind had graced the earth, I would never forget the race of bloodthirsty soldiers who had wielded that particular trademark weapon.

Fairies… fucking psychotic, warrior fairies.

Vaulting to the grassy earth with a thundering boom – my fangs snicking down at an almost paining force – I charged at the male assailant with a barely audible whoosh as he attempted to stalk back towards Addy – a vicious, malignant smile curled about his chapped, broken lips. Imprudently fixated solely on his target, giving no regard to his bearings, I reached him in nanoseconds, catching him completely off-guard. He scratched deep gouges into my skin, ripping my dress clothes to shreds, as my hand gripped his windpipe tight – the resulting snap of the bone-encased, cartilage tube pleasing my raging beast to no end.

"N…eeeaav-e…"

He choked and sputtered against my increasingly crushing grasp, limbs flailing to gain further purchase in my already healing skin even as I thrust him out to arm's length – to search the surprisingly dust-filled terrain for Addy and her own fairy opponent.

"AHHHH!"

I heard a woman shriek, my head snapping left to spy Addy tearing her fangs ferociously into the female fairy's neck, drinking deeply as though her life depended on it – which it might have – offering no semblance of mercy, or even a modicum of restraint.

She really was an exceptional vampire – amazing on all counts.

It was a damn shame she was not mine.

Glittering sparkles framed Addy's lithe, alluring form as the female fairy turned to dust, crumbling under the weight of the tears streaming down her scarred face – her blue lips whispering Lochlan as she disintegrated into nothingness. As the cloudy air began to settle, I could not help but note that Addy's birthday frock was in shambles, her creamy pale skin peeking out from under tattered strips. Every exposed inch of her screamed for my cool touch as blood dripped down her smooth legs and pooled at her unshod feet – fuck, she looked hot as sin.

Involuntarily – my dick becoming unbearably hard – I curled my claws into fists, trying to stave off the overwhelming urge to rip those meager scraps of clothing off her and lick her head to toe.

The feeling of my own fairy captive exploding into glimmering particles between my fingers snapped me back to reality…

FUCK!

That was not what was supposed to happen.

Smiling broadly, revealing red-tipped fangs, Addy began to slink towards me slowly, her gait reminding me of a hungry predator hunting its prey – the dark hooded gaze from under her lengthy lashes belying her otherwise laissez-faire attitude. I knew better than to think she was anything, if not drunk out of her wits on fairy blood – her mind and sensibilities addled by the sweet, sugary treat she had consumed. Yet, I could not move even one muscle as she closed the short distance between us, the drying scent of blood on her legs – her own – infiltrating my nostrils like an enticing perfume, captivating my beast – demanding my full attention.

At that moment, she could have led me into the depths of hell.

I would have gone willingly if it meant following her.

"Hmmm…" Addy hummed enticingly as she danced her fingers lightly against the seam of my pants, teasingly tugging at the zippered enclosure – slipping her hand inside to palm at my rock-hard, throbbing dick, "Happy fucking birthday to me…"

Gods, nothing in the world had ever felt so fucking right in my entire life.

But it was wrong this way… oh, so very wrong.

Gently removing her soft hand – everything inside me screaming I had lost my ever-loving mind – I prayed to the Gods for both our sakes that once she sobered up she would not remember any of this.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"

Unfortunately, I knew that Godric was never going to forget it.